Right You Are If You Think You Are
by OnlyALittleMad
Summary: The life of Willy Wonka told in diary form. 1971 Based.
1. Short Beginnings

Right You Are (If You Think You Are)

**Right You Are (If You Think You Are)**

This story has actually been in my head for awhile now. It is meant to be a companion piece to I Am Who I Am. What does that mean? Well it means that I am writing a childhood story based on 1971 Wonka. I hope you original fans don't get too excited since I really do want to concentrate on The Magician's Assistant. I really will have to put in a lot more research into this one since it will start in the summer of 1929. Personally I love music from the 20's and the 30's. I wish more musicians sung songs like those sung back then. I based the title on a play on which I know nothing about. I know that might sound strange but I just love the title.

The Boy's Diary

**August 17, 1929**

**Dear Diary,**

How horrified would father be and how awe struck my mother would be if she saw me writing in a diary. But really, shouldn't history be documented? Truth be told, our family has had no form of fame but if say, I were to become famous in a sort of profession, I hope people will find interest in what flavour pancakes I ate this morning. They were blueberry by the way. Not the most interesting thing to report. The most intriguing thing to happen is that we have just got a television. What a wonderful thing. It presents moving images on a screen in bold colours. Why Uncle Barrie's bowels moved when he saw the wonder. As least it's what he has told me. Barrie does have a knack for his tall tales. Speaking of my dear uncle, he did mention that I really should cease my antics of acting like Charlie Chaplin. Men should speak and not be silent. I remark to him that silence is as golden as the golden age we are living in. There are talks of a war, but how can it be in such a prospersous time. Who would even dare to think of it?

**If it's possible, I'll try to work on this and the Magician's Assistant at the same time. For now, I'm off to research a time far before mine. This should be entertaining…**


	2. A Cold And Comfy Home

**August 18, 1929**

**Dear Diary,**

Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. As I recall going back to the beginning where my story starts is to think of eleventh birthday. We had just moved to London on one of the worst days you can imagine. Not only was the day miserable what with it's continual downpour of rain but the little cottage my father had purchased for us was not what we expected. The rooms were cold, the window panes were smashed and the front door was made of a piece of quickly rotting wood. Not the most pleasant place to live but it was certainly what I would call home. The ground acted as the floor and gave the kitchen in particular a very earthy smell. Why even with the bustle of people passing by the crowded roadway we lived on, I remember sitting down at the kitchen table with my cup of tea, for my mother always set out a cup for us in the morning, breathing in the scent of the sizzling bacon and imagining myself in the country. I was greatly grieved when we left our old farmhouse that had been my home all my life but somehow I knew that one day this house would as much a home as the one in the country was.

It turned out I was correct. It took us several years and much tedious work from my father, my six brothers and me to just repair the roof. We used to call it the Swiss cheese roof due to the holes. Oh the buckets we would have strewn around the house when it rained. I do remember the awful time when I woke in the morning to find the bedroom half flooded. My youngest brother Edward was having a grand time swimming in the water until my father managed to bail it all out.

Most of the people I know would be shocked to hear me say this but my whole family lives in this very dwelling today. My parents, my six brothers, aunts, uncles and a few cousins all under the same roof with my grandparents living in a small shed that my uncle had built for there was no more room for beds in the small basement. Some would call it a nuisance to have so many family members around but we were all to close to care. We are too close even now to care.

Once again, and getting back to the present, we hear the same talks of war. However, I must protest given the times we are living in. Perhaps people are still worried after World War One. But a second war? They say that something may be on the horizon but I suppose I shall have to hold my tongue and see what happens. I hope it is not true.

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End file.
